#it is untitled no more!

[cj-the-random-artist]

I let them get friendship married so Narinder can get his tax benefits lol

But legitimately. I mulled this one over repeatedly for literal months. Like. Do I want them to get married in front of the cult? Should they even get married? It would be hilarious if the Goat married them and then cried at the altar the whole time, but also... that doesn't feel right, so maybe I won't do that. And then once I decided it should be a personal friendship-marriage ritual where it's just the pair of them making vows to each other, I wrote four different scripts and hated them all and ended up just pulling this one out of thin air pretty much on the spot and that was that. At one point, I wanted Lambert to basically suggest this idea and then have them get friend-married on the spot, but that didn't feel right (and it was also gonna be unreasonably long) so that's why there's no context going into this one. And the actual friend-marriage ritual is... maybe not the best designed one ever? I wanted it to in some ways be similar to like, the way I imagine a romantic marriage happening in the cult- the parties exchange vows and do rings and stuff...? (If it's not obvious, I haven't been to many weddings...) But I figured they wouldn't want an audience, or to party with the whole cult afterwards, or anything like that. I also had them kiss each other's rings as opposed to like... faces... because one of the fights I had with myself in deciding how I would want this to go was whether it would make sense for them to kiss or not. And I ultimately decided that in this AU at least they just wouldn't want to. They're also wearing the rings on their not ring fingers cuz. Honestly it just felt right that way. Based on vibes. But basically I just wanted them to exchange a vow of eternal partnership in a very casual, chill setting, because I don't picture QPR AU Narilamb doing... anything other than that.

Also this is the rest of Lambert's office, which I actually had a pretty clear vision for after my last doodle but I didn't really bother to draw before starting this comic. Maybe I should've but eh it looks good enough. Interior backgrounds are hard......

Anyways. I think I'm happy with this one? I was enamored by the concept of a chill friendship marriage, so I definitely leaned into it here. As per usual, it's not perfect, I think I could've done a lot of stuff better / differently, but honestly?? If I were to ever get friend-married I would want it to go about like this, it makes my little aroace heart happy, and I spent too long on it to not show it to anybody. Thus. Enjoy, and also happy new year cuz I totally forgot to make a post individually about that...

[saym0-0]

Thinking about the magic mountain row characters

[eliounora]

the ghost of an old king

[kiitoskiitos]

main characters of a comic I'm hoping to dedicate a lot of my time to this year

[artbyblastweave]

Thanks for the compliment on the map. It's definitely a "what if fucked up shit happened?" kind of setting and I consider you an incisive connoisseur of such media in a way I am not. Anything in particular catch your eyes?

Off the top of my head -

The cursed lands is fun; throwing the evil overlord a territorial holding as a sop because it's either not worth it or not possible to have it out definitively is always a favored worldbuilding beat of mine, a great litmus test for the underlying moral logic of the powers that be and the setting as a whole.

Unspeakable desert's also great- love a good black box torture zone. In fiction also!

I like the moon-elf republic- "Morally palatable liberal-democracy but nothing is ever fucking open when you're awake" is such a great monkey's paw bit. I'm picturing human expats going insane and doing I Am Legend bullshit with mannequins in a mostly empty city, except it's not the apocalypse everyone is just asleep inside. Which actually is also what the twist was with I Am Legend so never mind

Zones F, G and H make me think you would enjoy, at a minimum, the aesthetic of Sunless Sea, Fallen London, and the rest of the games in that shared universe, if not necessarily the gameplay.

One thing I'm a little unclear on is where the humans are- is this just the quote-unquote "weird hemisphere?"

To briefly toot my own horn, The Perfection caught my eye because it's basically the exact opposite of how I handled Evil Mushroom Land in the Fallout pastiche setting I've been fucking around with for about twelve years. There's a superintelligent, psychic mycological supercomputer that's infested and subverted the entire ecosystem of the American Southeast; but rather than an inscrutable, inexorable hyperoptimizer, its desires are actually completely politically legible to humans. It's an anarchist-bending towards-anarchoprimitivist, and it sanctimoniously touts that it's created the world's first practical anarchy.... because it's big-brothering everyone who "voluntarily" imbibed its spores and connected to the network, and it can psionically cook their brains at a distance if it decides that they aren't being good enough anarchists. Or if it needs a favor and they won't "pull their weight." Or if their version of anarchy isn't aesthetically compatible with it's gaian edenic pastoralism thing. If you don't "voluntarily" join the network it doesn't actively try to kill you, that would be unjustified initiation of force. No, it just doesn't stop all the jacked-up mutant gators from doing what they'd naturally do if it wasn't inhibiting them. The other North American powers put up with this because it's genuinely the least belligerent and expansionist of its type of hive mind, and they export some really great drugs (all of which are a backdoor for further psychic snooping.)

[lockssteps]

[starrysharks]

inspiration for freaks (freakspiration)

[what-eats-owls]

As an aspiring writer (who is very inspired by and loves your work) I was curious how drawing/sketching plays a role in your writing/brainstorming process (if any)?? Do the two processes work together, separately, etc?

This is so lovely! Writing and drawing have always been rather entangled for me, and you'll know I've reached a sustainable wage in royalties the day I announce a graphic novel, haha.

Drawing is always a part of my brainstorming process, helping me nail down both the spirit and the detail of characters, worlds, even story tone. The easiest example is when I was struggling to pin down Vanja's character in Little Thieves, as I saw her initially as a more sophisticated and cold femme fatale type of con woman. Then, while I was thinking about the curse scene, my brain dished up this particular comic sequence, and the rest was history:

Drawing and writing feed each other as I'm developing a story/world/etc, and drawing can be just as meditative and productive as, y'know, listening to music in the shower and Thinking About Situations. Moreover, art and drawing really help you stay curious in different ways—it's easier to draw something when you roughly understand how it works!—and builds your observational skills, which are critical to bringing a story to life.

And I hope you've noticed that nowhere in here did I say you have to be good at drawing, because you don't. The real treasure is the curiosity, observation, and perspective you gain along the way. (And it's no coincidence that AI can't teach you those.)

[jennicatzies]

Sat down and stared into nothing for a while. Hello? You did not need to cook so hard. I'm actually feeling so bad for both maria and hamilton rn. Could not imagine having to do something like that, again, and again, and again (and then the whole world thinks you did it willingly but you didn't you promise you didn't want it but nobody believes you because why would they why would you be in a situation like this if you did not want it, doesn't even matter you need to act like it never happened) with no way out. Cann we pretty please get some fluff on top of all this angst, maybe a lil sketch of burr doing his best to comfort hamilton during the room where it happens?

They're trying to not act up too hard. Burr's just letting Ham squeeze him. To calm down. And trying not to react all too much jfbfnfn

I apologize for the pain I just dropped earlier. God. o(-( Have some,,, vague floof for compensation.

[Since they don't. Want to risk acting up too much. Ham is squeezing Burr's sleeve/arm to calm down. Burr lets it happen and also tries to not react . Yay...???]

[cj-the-random-artist]

Be it as it may that I've spent the last few weeks very very very much itching to make comics but. Alas. I am. Under the weather, to put it lightly and I have been for a while so. I attempted to scratch the comics itch by making actual references for the (yet unnamed) silly au versions of Narinder and Lambert so that when I do return to making comics I have good references for them (I should probably make some for like the Bishops and like some other canon characters and maybe some followers but I'll do it later it's fine)

Gonna add a read more with their individual refs with some of the layers of these outfits and some bonus notes. I would've done more stuff for these but it's fine it's a future me task-

Pls enjoy these, have a good one y'all :D

[bergoose]

it's a haunted day at watcher hq and you are a terrified bergoose

alt versions under the cut bc im indecisive as fuck

[kerizaret]

I think it would be funny if someone ever accidentally played untitled on shuffle while listening to music and got randomly kidnapped to the sekai

[sailforvalinor]

Okay how about Harry x Luna with...decorating for Christmas!

Quick note: this is set within my fix-it AU, where Harry’s parents are alive, and he has a younger brother.

Harry was livid. It wasn’t exactly an unfamiliar feeling—his mood could swing to “unexplainable rage” at the drop of a hat these days. It seemed to always bubble at a low simmer below the surface, waiting to boil over at the slightest provocation.

That day’s culprit was his dad, who, despite having spent every waking moment at the Ministry these past few weeks, was being uncharacteristically tight-lipped on how the search for the escapees from Azkaban was going, dodging Harry’s every question with a practiced ease that he usually only reserved for evading questions about birthday surprises. Harry had somehow managed not to explode at him, but the same couldn’t be said of Walburga Black’s wall sconce, which suddenly shattered and rained glass all over the sitting room’s sofa.

His dad hadn’t said a word—his gaze looked from the broken glass to Harry, an unspoken apology in his worried eyes. Harry had looked away, still too angry to speak, and left the room before he blew up anything else.

He strode through the hallways, ignoring the more cheery voices coming from the different parts of 12 Grimmauld Place. He didn’t want to hear any of it. Outside. He needed to be outside. He quickly made his way towards the front door—

—and nearly plowed over Luna Lovegood in the entry hall.

He stumbled, grabbing her by the shoulders to steady her, as well as himself. “Whoa! Luna. Hi,” he said breathlessly.

Luna, for her part, didn’t look the least bit bothered by almost being run over by a lanky fifteen-year-old. “Hello, Harry,” she said brightly.

Harry, suddenly realizing he was still holding her shoulders, quickly dropped his arms. “Um. Hi,” he repeated stupidly. Why did he say that? “Sorry about that. Didn’t see you there.”

“That’s alright,” Luna said. Harry noticed, looking down at her, that she seemed to have colored her eyelashes—the set on her right eye red, her left eye green. What was that…mascara? He wasn’t sure. “People don’t see me when I’m right in front of them all the time,” Luna was saying. “But most of them don’t apologize for it.” She smiled. “That was very nice of you.”

“Um….right,” Harry said uncertainly. He was never quite sure if Luna was completely unaware of when people were rude to her, or if she just consciously decided to give them the benefit of the doubt.

Luna studied him. “Are you alright, Harry?” she asked. “You look a little pinched. Right—“ she pointed between Harry’s eyebrows, nearly touching his forehead “—there. And here.” She tapped each of his shoulders.

Harry quickly smoothed his features, realizing he was still carrying his frustration with his dad. He hadn’t even realized he was tensing his shoulders. He relaxed them. “Yeah, I’m okay. Thanks, Luna. What are you doing here?” he asked.

“Ginny invited me for Christmas,” Luna explained. “It’s usually just me and Dad, you know…I haven’t spent Christmas with other people since my mum died.” She suddenly looked a little anxious. “Is that alright?”

“Yeah, it’s great!” Harry said, surprised by how genuinely he meant it. “My mum and Mrs. Weasley are making a huge Christmas dinner, you’ll love it. And you can try out the twins’ enchanted poppers they’ve been working on, and you can meet my uncles—well, you’ve met one of them, my Uncle Remus—and you can help us figure out if my Uncle Sirius’ secret girlfriend is real.” He was babbling. Why was he babbling? Luna didn’t look the least bit perturbed, but Harry still felt like an idiot. Just to change the subject, Harry looked down at the bag Luna was holding. “What’s that?” he asked.

“Oh, I brought decorations,” Luna explained, holding open the bag. Inside, Harry saw crocheted garlands—none of them Christmas-colored, like Harry expected, but all of them cool blues and purples and pinks. They had strange objects woven into them that Harry couldn’t identify—beads? Nuts? He wasn’t sure. Regardless of their oddity, they still were pretty, in a way.

“They’re not just to look pretty,” Luna said. “An old house like this is bound to be filled with all sorts of things. These ward off—“

“—nargles?” Harry asked.

“Wrackspurts,” Luna said seriously.

The thought of Luna hanging up wrackspurt-preventative garlands in Walburga Black’s austere parlor suddenly made Harry laugh in a way he didn’t realize he needed—oh, that portrait was going to have a fit over this.

Luna looked at him curiously. “You think they’re funny?”

“No, no, I don’t,” Harry assured her. “I think they’re brilliant.”

They held each other’s gaze then—for a bit too long. Harry felt very strange. She was nice, Luna. Very nice.

Harry cleared his throat. “Um, I think Ginny’s down that way,” he said awkwardly, pointing towards the parlor door.

“Alright. Thank you, Harry.” With a vague smile, Luna floated down the hall and into the parlor.

Harry watched her go, and realized he had a vague smile of his own to match hers. He felt very odd, and oddest of all, he could barely recall what he’d been so angry with his dad about. Yeah…very odd.

A loud clearing of the throat broke Harry from his reverie, and he looked over to see Monty leaning against the front door, arms crossed, with the most annoying of amused expressions on his face. He realized stupidly that he must’ve been the one to let Luna inside in the first place. And had been standing there the whole time.

His brother was clearly trying desperately not to laugh. “What was that?” he asked innocently.

“Nothing,” Harry said too quickly.

Monty raised an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” Harry snapped.

[aufi-creative-mind]

[ZELDA CREATORS] Look at all of these Cuccos. ft. Kaepora and Goosedorf.

I can finally show all what I was up to for most of January since returning from Japan. All month, it is just me drawing BIRBS for the Zelda Creators' February Banner. The setting theme was OoT Kakariko Village.

Originally, Kaepora Gaebora was my only contribution to the Banner. But then, I got a little silly and then started drawing Cuccos...and more Cuccos...until Goosedorf appeared because why not!

Please enjoy these birbs!

[writeforfandoms]

Here, have an untitled drabble thing. Yes, I had a specific character in mind when I wrote it. Feel free to guess. (Technically I wrote it for CoD but I think it's vague enough that my Pedro peeps could read it too.)

Warnings: Allusions to sexual activity, swearing, intentionally vague, gender neutral reader.

Word count: 355

--

You had trained yourself to quiet as a teenager. It was easier - easier to fade into the background, to avoid detection, to paste on a smile and keep your heart quiet and close so nobody had cause to look closer. 

That method had lasted you for years. You were silent in your pain, keeping your reactions as small and quiet as you could. You didn't scream when scared, didn't give yourself away. Even in pleasure, you stayed quiet, focused on sensation rather than noise. 

Which worked well in college. No embarrassing questions for you, thanks much. 

Once in the habit, you just… never stopped. Sure, you'd swear at a stubbed toe, but never more than that. In a way, you were proud of your quiet.

But you got used to people looking at you, and not seeing. Taking the image you put forth at face value and not digging deeper. 

That changed with him. 

He saw you. Every time. You could try to downplay your pain, your joy, your sorrow. He saw all of it. He didn't make you explain. Didn't ask you to change. 

Just held you when you needed it. Murmured encouragement into your neck as his hips met yours. Pulled you into his side when you were out, having memorized every sign of distress from you. 

To be so seen was… intoxicating. Strange. Frightening, sometimes. 

But you couldn't pull back. Couldn't leave. Not when he looked at you like… like… 

Like you were something precious. Special. 

You kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to realize that, really, you were nothing special. 

The one time you expressed such quiet doubts to him, he just pulled you onto his lap and let you hide your face against his shoulder. 

He loved you the way you were. Reassured you that he didn't need you to perform for him, didn't want you to change. Just wanted you to be comfortable. 

That comfort gave you a safety net you hadn't even realized you'd been missing until you had it again. 

Neither of you left that spot on the couch for a long time. 

[jasperblion]

"Alm? Is that really you?"

His head turns, and that confirmation is all she needs. She is flying, feet barely skimming the ground. All thoughts of class, of her worries, gone as clouds in the summer.

Momentum too great to stop, she laughs and finds his arms around her. A tangle of limbs, she spins, once, twice, then meets him on the grass, giddy as a child.

Her face meets his chest, and when his arms find their way around her, she is gone. He is warm, and smells of the ocean, of sea winds and travel under fair skies.

"Oh, Alm..." She hadn't even realized how badly she had missed him.

A dream. A wish that this one moment could stretch into infinity.

Gently, the world returns to her, and is all the bit brighter for it. She pushes herself up from his shoulders, and looks into those eyes.

"Why are you here? Has something happened in Valentia? Who's running the Kingdom?"

“Hmm?”

A script all too familiar. But even with the benefactor of deja vu, Alm is none the wiser to avoid what was written next. With a turn of his head, he is met with the sight of the most calming, yet fierce fires barreling straight for him with arms outstretched. 

What comes next is the lady wrapping around his body, though her touch is more well-defined without a suit of blue armor covering his physique. If the charade were to continue, Alm would be down for the count in no time. But he has matured since then. They both have.

The king obliges with the first spin, moving his legs around to wrap alongside her. Then instead of keeping arms swaying aside, they meet her own body to keep her uplifted as their spirits. His balance is still…admittedly not perfect, causing them to inevitably tumble just the same with him on the bottom. At least this time, he can manage to laugh away alongside her, in on the act.

Rather than getting up right away, she buries her face into her chest. It makes it tough to get a good look of her…and is a little awkward out in the open.

“Uh, Celica? We’re right in the middle of-”

Oh, whatever, Alm concludes to himself, unable to complete his comment with a second sight of her caring touch.

They can afford to be immature, for at least another day.

He allows her as much time as needed for her to regain composure, the push on his shoulders feeling less stressing and more warm. The red eyes, orange hair, and golden headpiece…it has been only some months, but Alm is relieved to see Celica remain the same - outside of dress code.

It’s mid-observing of his beloved that he gets hit with all of the hard questions. Oh…right. Guess writing to the person you were about to meet across seas would be a little important, not to mention the whole royalty thing. But…it’s supposed to be a surprise!

“Woah woah, one at a time would be better! The kingdom’s doing fine, Celica. Just fine. The recovery’s been going smoothly…I just wish I could be doing more. Grandfather’s seen to manage rule, alongside your brother. Both were fine with my temporary leave…though it did take some back and forth on gramps’ end.”

Alm chuckles at the memory of a shocked Mycen speaking a little bit out of character. “Oh, and that first thing. I’m sorry I never wrote before coming. It’s just…I could - no, should be doing so much more back home than I am. If this academy is good enough for you to learn at, I’m sure it’s good enough for me too.”

“Also…” Alm smiles as he lingers on his last point, laying one of his hands atop Celica’s, still on his shoulder. “I wanted to see you again. Um, really, wanted to see you again. Call me greedful all you’d like, but something tells me you miiight feel just the same."